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Chapter 222: A Grilled Sausage Totem (Part 4 of 5)

Even a man as simple as Zheng Ren could not believe Song Ying’s answer. “Grilled sausage?”

A restaurant owner liking grilled sausage?

Was it a joke?

The room simmered down.

The air cooled.

Faces filled with disbelief.

Song Ying let out a bitter smile. He propped his hands on the table and took a moment to steady himself before speaking, “So here’s the story:

“I come from a poor family, like the proverbial frog at the bottom of the well. I spent many years working and trying to start up a business but luck was just not on my side. It felt like I was always half a step behind.”

At this moment, Zheng Ren could empathize with the man.

“One year, I did enough networking to get myself a small booth at the International Horticultural Exhibition.

“So, I opened up a stall selling grilled sausages and beverages.

“I spent 12 hours a day at that stall but never felt tired. That time, the food I ate most was grilled sausage. I remember the exhibition coinciding with the Mid-Autumn Festival that year. When the doors closed, I carried the remaining dozen or so sausages to the viewing grounds for the fireworks. I sat there and ate the sausages as fireworks painted the night sky and the musical fountain came to life.”

Song Ying’s voice was soft as his forced politeness gave way to genuine nostalgia.

He was reliving his painful past.

“The moon that night was round and so bright.” There was a glimmer in Song Ying’s eyes, as if that same moon was before him now. “I know it’s superstition, but ever since that night, my luck turned for the better. My dear doctors, you should know that luck plays a big role in a business. I’ve grown afraid of the bitter years, so every night, I head to the streets and get myself some grilled sausages.”

The story was an odd one, but the doctors had seen people from all walks of life. A businessman’s superstition was understandable.

“When I’m in a good mood, I’ll get a few sticks. On bad days, I buy a few sticks more. When I need to make a big decision, I’ll eat even more.”

Zheng Ren concluded that this had to be the root of his dietary problems.

“The taste gets old sometimes, but when I think back to the difficult years, grilled sausages become all the more delicious. I know it’s weird to find a restaurant owner who chooses to stuff himself with grilled sausages from the streets instead of food from his own establishment,” Song Ying said as he shook his head.

Chief Chu consoled the man.

“Is this related to my problem?” Song Ying asked. “A few months back, when I was eating sausages at Gui Street, the weather turned gloomy and the moon was obscured by clouds. I thought the cold winds had gotten to me and made my legs like this.”

“What happened next?” Zheng Ren asked, the wheels in his mind spinning.

“I tried acupuncture, cupping and moxibustion. I even got a feng shui guru to help with the problem but nothing worked. The limp is not severe and things have been busy in the shop, so I’ve been putting off dealing with the problem. I did think to reach out to you, Chief Chu.”

“Well, it’s just your luck that you have Boss Zheng here today,” Chief Chu said with a laugh.

“Quite true. If I could trouble Boss Zheng to take a look at my case,” Song Ying said. His demeanor was back to that of a polite and hospitable host.

Song Ying had noted Zheng Ren’s youth but the two department chiefs seemed to hold the young doctor in high regard. He was not about to question Zheng Ren’s legitimacy directly.

It was important to be amiable to others.

A good nature brought in opportunities.

“I believe your gait is caused by overconsumption of grilled sausages. Phosphorus is a key element in food preservatives and additives. They exist in salt form, such as calcium phosphate, disodium phosphate, monosodium phosphate, trisodium phosphate and more.

“These inorganic phosphates are easily absorbed by the gut when not bound to proteins. Based on your recount, you’ve been eating a lot of grilled sausages throughout the years. The symptoms you’re experiencing are likely caused by the accumulation of phosphate.”

“Are you sure?” Song Ying asked before realizing that he was questioning a doctor about medical issues. He flashed an embarrassed smile and said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be doubting your diagnosis. What should I do, then?”

“Go to the general surgery department and get your parathyroid glands removed. The bump on your wrist should be gone after three weeks. Your gait should also gradually improve.” Zheng Ren continued with a playful smile. “But you should absolutely reduce your consumption of grilled sausages. You can have some occasionally, but definitely not at the rate you’ve described.”

Grilled sausage had become Song Ying’s good luck charm... If Zheng Ren forbade Song Ying from eating it, he worried that it would affect the man’s mental state and business.

Reduced consumption was the best option.

Song Ying nodded in surprise.

He did not know the functions of the parathyroid glands, only their anatomical position.

Could removal of the glands could make the bump on his wrist disappear? It sounded unbelievable.

He kept his doubts to himself but decided to make an appointment at the hospital regardless.

The diagnosis sounded a little far-fetched for Chief Chu, but the medical theory behind it was solid. It was a rare disorder so a checkup was required to determine its treatment plan.

“Little Song, I’ll arrange for a hospital visit,” Chief Chu said.

Song Ying stood from his seat and bowed slightly. He was not about to turn down the offer. “Thank you.”

Chief Chu took a look at the time and said, “It’s a bit late now. Remind me of it tomorrow, alright?”

As he said that, Department Chief Kong’s phone started ringing.

“Hello.

“What?

“Get to the point! What’s going on with the ophthalmology department?

“I’m out now. If traffic is good, I’ll be back in an hour. Okay, go make the arrangements.”

With that, he hung up.

The mention of ophthalmology piqued Zheng Ren’s interest.

“Excuse me, there’s an emergency in the hospital,” Department Chief Kong said as he got up from the table.

Quiet, uninterrupted meals were few and far between for doctors—or so it was for junior doctors. The case must have befuddled even the chief resident to require Department Chief Kong’s input.

“Oh? What’s the matter?” Chief Chu asked.

“Lin Jiaojiao lost her vision. The ophthalmologist says there’s an interrupted blood supply in her eye and they can’t operate. They want a second opinion,” Department Chief Kong said.